Midnight hing

Oh, all right. I'll explain ... traditional housewifely pursuits in Glasgow tenements included the slightly perilous habit of conversing with one's next - door neighbour from the open kitchen window, arms resting on the stone sill outside. This was known as "having a hing" - think the more modern "hanging out together" and add the accent. The photo tonight was taken ten minutes ago when I was checking for any sign of the Aurora, for which I'd received a red alert - but there was only the slightest tinge of pink. 

The day up till now? Pretty nondescript for much of it, though nondescript housewifely activity feels different when one is as stressed as I found myself feeling. I washed some essentials which I had to dry indoors as we still await our replacement whirligig; I cleaned the sink and the draining board and rack of the beastly mildew which seems to form as soon as any moisture is allowed to linger; I did extra Italian to use up points which were going to expire. I went out for a prescription and bought some packets of flower seeds (no - not as medication) and fulfilled my steps quota just as I approached the house again. We had our main meal at 3pm and I tried to relax, not helped by sciatica...

Holy Trinity was hosting the ecumenical Holy Week service this evening - a choral Evensong in so far as you can have a choir of two people (me and Himself) to sing the plainsong Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis and lead the congregation in the responses. We had the metrical version of the psalm and some lovely hymns, but most welcome of all was our first service with our new Rector and the fact that it was absolutely lovely - quiet, thoughtful, sensitive.

And then we had to scarper rather than socialise over tea in the church, as we had deferred our regular choir practice and had to get down the road to another church hall to open up for our waiting singers and sing. By the end of what was a good, focussed rehearsal I was absolutely dropping, my voice was dying - and all I could think of was toast and marmalade.

Now my thoughts are full of thoughts of sleep, but I have to confess I watched the rest of Scent of a Woman with my toast - it's still one of my all-time faves.

(So is Al Pacino...)